


Wicked Game

by TAle_xistime



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comedy, F/M, Liz is a tease, One Shot, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27932338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAle_xistime/pseuds/TAle_xistime
Summary: Liz has found that she has started to grow feelings for Red, and though she tries her hardest to keep hating him, she can't help but lead him on while she figures out what she wants. A different approach to the scene in S2 E9 "Luther Braxton" where Red almost snapped Liz's neck in a secret Blacksite on the ocean after being purposely captured by the authoritys.A rom-com one shot of sorts."She tried to ignore it. To continue on with loathing him. But she was unsuccessful with it. Being around him is getting increasingly hard. He MAKES her feel this way. And it didn’t help that it was that much hotter when he wasn’t aware that he made her feel- all those things."
Relationships: Elizabeth Keen & Raymond Reddington, Elizabeth Keen/Raymond Reddington
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Wicked Game

**Author's Note:**

> So for the sake of this AU lizzington fic just pretend that Tom is long gone, not because Liz shot and then kidnapped him, but because he left for good. Let’s say this takes place just about half a year after Tom left. Also lets just pretend that the fulcrum is not the main goal for Luther Braxton,  
> (just pretend that demon object never came to exist. *holds up cross*)  
> Pretend Red broke into the Blacksite for some different reason, let me know ideas in the comments, and that Luther is after something else so he does not kidnap Liz and we don’t get the subsequent memory crap.  
> (*Yeets the cross at canon Liz after she is so flippin mean to Red, AGAIN*)  
> I think I will find a way to work a fic with the whole Red’s face being UBER close to Liz while she is drugged. Because those scenes are pure gold.  
> (other than every other thing that happens afterward.)  
> Once again this takes place in an AU where Liz and Red did not meet or know each other until he turned himself in. If you want an explanation on how that AU works, look at my other work “loss” chapter two. It is explained in the notes. I will be posting all that on an individual work and how that plot works soon. Chapter three and possibly four of “loss” will be coming out tomorrow. I’m contemplating giving you all a freebie because chapter three is pretty short.  
> Mk imma shut up, now enjoy!  
> (Seriously though, help with how they could end up in this situation without the fulcrum. Also keep in mind this was written as a indulgence little fic at 2 am because it WOULD NOT leave me beeee.) 
> 
> Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, but variations on what TBP could have, (more like should have) done. I make no money off these stories or characters.

She stalked quietly around the Blacksite, her guns safety clicked into the off position. The ocean surrounded her from all directions, making her feel strangely claustrophobic.

She had to find Samar and Ressler. And Red. She didn’t know what was going on, or why Red was here, or who had taken her co-workers but she was eager to find out the answer to all her questions. Raymond had a lot of answering to do.

As she peered around the corner she decided her best bet would be to the left. She turned quietly and scanned around the dark hallway. The air was thick and damp. But not particularly hot. Just humid and salty from the sea.

The only light was a flashing green exit sign at the end of the long hallway of prison blocks. They weren’t meant to hold the highest flight risk prisoners, they weren’t advanced enough for that. She felt confident that all the prisoners that usually occupied these blocks had fled already, the door locks now deactivated. Red was probably wandering around here somewhere, perhaps looking for a way off the metal island. Or was now off to complete whatever the hell it is he got himself captured for.

She was so angry at him. How could he just go and get taken to a torture prison, without at least giving her a heads up? She unfortunately knew the answer to that question, without it needing to be spoken aloud.

He didn’t want her to try and talk him out of it. Or tell the task force. Which she absolutely would have. She would have tied the man up in her apartment and gagged him if she had heard that come out of his mouth. She didn’t care what his reasoning was. She was already completely convinced that he was out of his mind. But that would just prove her point.

And the thought of him being hurt here, tortured and then having it swept under the rug as if it never happened, it made her feel strangely protective of him.  
Which made her even more angry. Just continuing to support her recent revelation about him. She shouldn’t feel this way. And she hated herself for feeling, whatever it was that had started to grow. She tried to ignore it. To continue on with loathing him. But she was unsuccessful with it. Being around him is getting increasingly hard. He MAKES her feel this way. And it didn’t help that it was that much hotter when he wasn’t aware that he made her feel- all those things.

Emotions she didn’t have the time to dissect. 

He was just being him. His charismatic, charming, protective, confident, magnetic, handsome-  
(Wait, wasn’t she supposed to be convincing herself into hating him?)

She was highly annoyed with herself for falling yet again for another criminal. At least this time she knew upfront, but that didn’t make it any less difficult to stop her heart from throbbing every time she saw him command a room.(Seriously what was up with her and falling for murders? For Pete's sake she just finally got rid of Tom, or whoever the Hell he was.)  
It was only after the persisting dreams that she had the realization that she secretly liked Reddington a little more than a friend or co-worker should.

She has been trying to ignore her feelings for around a month now. But every time he comes around, she can’t help but feel, so, weak. She almost got caught staring at him recently when he was presenting the most recent Blacklister. There were so many things that had started to catch her attention it was overwhelming. 

She noticed how his gun holder looked against the small of his back, the way his arms looked with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His build was solid, but fit.

Then she found herself staring at him whenever he wore just his dress shirt with a vest. It made him casual, but assertive.

Then there was his eyes. She loved his eyes so much. They were such a beautiful green, and the only part of him she regularly used to tell what he was thinking. He was becoming more and more vulnerable with her and that made her giddy with joy.  
(It annoyed her yet again that she cared at all.)

But the cherry on top was his voice. When she had first heard him speak in that box she didn’t immediately think that his voice was going to be a problem. But then she had a dream that made her feel as his chest rumbled softly behind her. As he whispered in her ear, his husky voice as low and gravely as it would go. His hands clamped gently around her waist holding her, his chest pressed up against her back. Well, that had awakened something in her that she didn’t know she needed. Desperately. 

And for the next few days she just could not stop thinking about that dream whenever he talked. 

She blocked it out, but after her revelation that somehow she had grown feelings for him, she couldn’t stop thinking about how it would feel to lay on his chest as his voice thundered softly beneath her. 

She had started to notice the way he looked at her as well. She had started to dress in tighter clothes and play a very minor game of hard to get just to see what he would do, her own little experiment while she untangled how she felt.

She saw him staring out of the corner of his eye at her. She had even tried to lean on Ressler and hold his waist to see what Red would do. No one else would notice a change, but she saw his stormy eyes grow darker and saw his jaw clench, if only for a second.

She had him, she was fairly sure. But she couldn’t figure out what to do now about it. She knew she would have to make a move, Red was respectful of her and sort of shy that way. She didn’t understand why she was so afraid to let herself get to know him, maybe it was her recent experience with Tom. Why did she do this to herself?

She was halfway through the hall when she suddenly felt a large arm encircle her neck, and a rough callous hand clamp her mouth shut. She tried a muffled scream, but it didn’t permeate past the sizable hand. The man's other arm, she was sure it was a man just by his build alone, slithered under his already positioned arm and spread his hand to web across her cheek. Perfectly positioned to snap her neck.

The man exhumed power and a cold exterior, and she knew he would not hesitate to kill her with his bare hands. He obviously knew what he was doing, the whole positioning took less than a second. Before she knew it she was being dragged from the hallway, quickly whisked away by the man’s strong core.

She was just about to bite, kick and scream when she suddenly got a strong whiff of the man's cologne. She recognized it. Raymond's cologne. It smelled like wood, the ocean, and had just a hint of scotch.  
(Why did she know his cologne like that?)

The man was about three inches taller than her, and had a squarish build. As he dragged her into the loan room he lent down and accidently got a whiff of her hair. He froze, face hovering just above the crown of her head. She was suddenly confident it was him. She didn’t know how she knew just due to his smell and persona, but she did. She stopped herself from fighting, falling limp in his grip. Suddenly the thought of him holding her so close, and feeling that Yes, he did indeed have muscles, and feeling his cold, dominant exterior ready to do whatever it takes, his confidence, made her melt a little. She felt the blood rush out from her face.

He had loosened his grip only slightly, still unsure it was her in the dark. She felt as he subtly leaned down to smell her hair again, if she wasn’t paying attention she wouldn’t have noticed. After that he was confident it was her and he relaxed, his arms barely hanging off her. He made no move to remove them from around her. She no longer could feel his muscles brushing against her skin. His heart rate increased, his pulse thrumming out from his wrists.

Another sudden thought came to her and she realized that he knew her by her scent. She was weakened again by that fact, feeling triggered by it. Now that his hand wasn’t clamped so tightly around her mouth she spoke softly, her lips barely brushing his palm.

“Raymond?” He loosened his grip only slightly in order to put his face next to her ear to whisper in the lowest tone she had yet to hear from his thin lips,  
“What in the hell, are you doing here?” It was spoken not with anger but with fear and panic.

She understood that if he hadn’t have caught her scent, he would have killed her. He was brimming with adrenaline and scared to death because he had almost killed her. And that sent his pulse racing. Along with other things. 

His words were spoken with less than an inch between his lips and her ear and she couldn’t stop the small hum that came from her. He froze, taking in what he just heard and felt from her. She could feel as the blood that had drained from her face returned, and she flushed with embarrassment at not being able to stop herself before she had voiced her innermost thoughts. Even though no words were spoken. She kicked herself,  
(‘YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE HATING HIM!’) 

He stood there frozen, computing all that had just happened, and she could feel his breath on the sensitive skin of her neck. She bit her lip and closed her eyes trying so hard not to soften in his hands.

He suddenly let go, or so she thought, until the world spun again and her back hit the wall with a small thud. She was staring at his face, and he was angry. His eyes a tumultuous green full of fear, anxiety, panic, and anger. His hands were planted firmly against her shoulders, his fingers spread out to hold onto her tight. His legs were spread far apart and he was bending slightly at the waist so he was eye level with her. His eye twitched and she tried with all her might to keep herself together even though he literally had her pinned. Why was he torturing her? He made it so dang difficult to ignore all the emotions raging inside her, after being kept dormant for far to long. She was successful this time in keeping her facade firmly in place, letting no emotion slip between the cracks.

He searched her face, eyebrow furrowed in shock and disbelief for getting a response out of her like that. His face shifted, and he grew more serious. 

“Lizzie you have to go. I don’t want you here.” She stood shocked and slightly hurt at that, but at least now she had fuel to feed her faked anger.  
“No. I’m not leaving without you.” She realized how that sounded and quickly tacked on, “And Ress and Samar. They were captured.” She spoke with firmness and authority, fire in her eyes.  
“No. Absolutely not. I will take care of them. Go radio for help or something. Please Lizzie.” Him pleading only steeled her resolve. He could not just get rid of her like that. She could handle herself. The fire grew in her. She didn’t know if it’s primary fuel was anger or intrigue at the situation he had her in.  
“No. I’m staying with you. We get Samar and Ressler out together.” She looked down from his face to the rest of him for the first time, to see that he had on a dress shirt, slacks, and a black waistcoat. She was really being tested today. She had a sudden idea of how to get him to let her go so he couldn’t argue anymore, sure it was manipulative but nonetheless she leaned forward and pecked his cheek, short but sweet. Then took advantage of his confusion and ducked underneath his arms. Without her there holding him up he started to fall, but caught himself. She had to admit, he was adorable.  
(‘STOP THAT.’)

She didn’t betray anything as she watched him and gathered herself. She decided not to bother to look back at his shell shocked face as she started to walk out the door leaving him still standing dumbfounded. She liked flustering him, getting revenge for all the times he knocked her off kilter. She had power over him.  
“Come on Ray.” She purposefully used a nickname she never had before. Trying it out as she settled into this flirtier version of herself. She gave herself a self satisfied smirk from the hallway as she imagined him breaking down in the room behind her. She knew he would be even more shaken by that act of intimacy with the variation of his name. Though he would try to hide it. But as he realized she was leaving him he snapped out of it in a panic and jogged after her, like a little puppy dog. Or maybe more accurately like a puppy version of Cerberus.  
(She didn’t say he hid it well. All his bravado vaporized as he caught up with her.)

She waited outside the door scoping out the hallway making sure no one had heard them, while he regained his composure, his back to her, having just completely lost it. His mask being put firmly back into place. She felt kind of bad for putting him through the loop like that. But only a little. She quickly learned that she loved unsettling him. 

But she didn’t have time to focus on that right now. Or what all everything that just happened meant for her trying not to love him. She knew she was kidding herself, every time she tried to shove her feelings down, they came back ten fold, but until she figured out what to do with herself, she would try testing him. Seeing just what she could accomplish.


End file.
